


looks like mornin' in your eyes

by interstellarbeams



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Love Confessions, Lucy will stick to coffee thanks, Post-Season/Series 02, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wyatt Logan can cook y'all
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 14:29:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14215191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/interstellarbeams/pseuds/interstellarbeams
Summary: Wyatt makes an exhausted Lucy breakfast and she can't decide what she loves more, him or her favorite Costa Rican coffee blend.





	looks like mornin' in your eyes

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank Logan ([angellwings](http://archiveofourown.org/users/angellwings)) for fixing my punctuation and Denise for always being encouraging and reading my Timeless fics even though she has only watched the first two episodes. 
> 
> Title is from _Sunrise_ by Norah Jones. 
> 
> Elly prompted: Lyatt + accidental 'i love you' 
> 
> I hope you love it sweetie! <3

The smell of bacon cooking woke her up out of a deep, exhausted sleep. Pushing her tangled hair out of her face, she threw back the covers and walked down the hall to investigate. She hadn't really expected a cat burglar to be making her breakfast but she was equally surprised to see Wyatt standing in her kitchen, spatula in hand.

“Wyatt?” She crossed her arms over her chest, as a sudden chill came over her and she realized she left her robe in her bedroom and that she stood in front of him in a thin tank top and no bra. Turning to the side and hoping he hadn't noticed, she peered into the pan on her rarely used stovetop. “What are you doing?”

“Grilling steaks,” he teased, grinning at her obvious exasperation.

“I meant, What are you doing _here_?” Lucy asked, knocking her shoulder into his.

“I figured I would come and fix you breakfast.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if sneaking into her apartment and cooking her breakfast wasn't a big deal. “That last mission was exhausting for me and I’m used to this kind of stuff. You clearly are not,” he said with a chuckle, glancing down at her mismatched socks.

“Shut up.” Lucy bent down and pulled off her two distinctly different socks, revealing dainty red-painted toes. 

Wyatt's expression went from teasing to tender in a matter of seconds. Catching his look of appreciation, Lucy backed away, not feeling a hundred percent sure about going there with him, _again_.

Clearing his throat and glancing away, Wyatt went back to flipping the bacon in the pan.

“I’m just gonna go, _uh_ ,” Lucy said as she gestured with her thumb, “get cleaned up.” She trailed off as she rounded the corner and headed back down the hall.

It wasn't that she wasn't attracted to him anymore -- he was undeniably attractive and even better, he had a good heart, a protective spirit and a willingness to help others -- but she didn't know whether she could trust him with her heart again. 

Heading into her bedroom, she grabbed up the first pair of jeans she could find and then snatching her bra off the doorknob, she pulled on a soft peach boyfriend t-shirt before walking across the hall to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Combing her hair back with her fingers, she threw it up into a ponytail and after slipping her arms into a long, gray cardigan, she padded her way back to the kitchen.

At the first sight of Wyatt, in his tight t-shirt, with his back turned towards her, she immediately regretted not putting on at least a little mascara or lip gloss but when he turned around and smiled at her fondly, she knew she didn't need it with him. He liked Lucy Preston, the person, just the way she was. He didn't need her to be all dolled up to find her interesting or worthy of spending time with. 

Smiling brightly right back, she crossed to the coffee pot, the kitchen filled with the delicious smell of the Costa Rican blend she loved. Pouring herself a cup, she added a little cream and sugar. She moaned at her first sip, relishing the taste of it on her tongue.

“That good, huh?” Wyatt asked, eying her with a mixture of amusement and desire. 

Lucy nodded sharply before hiding behind another sip of coffee and her oversized Wonder Woman mug. 

She watched, from her place by the coffee pot, as he made a few trips from the refrigerator to the stove and back. Marveling at how at home he seemed in the kitchen, _her_ kitchen. Lucy rarely cooked and when she did it was always something frozen or pre-packaged -- coffee was the extent of her culinary prowess. 

A lineup of eggs, milk, flour, sugar and leavening agents filled the minimal counter space beside her stovetop. Setting down her coffee cup, she crossed the hardwood floors to stand next to Wyatt. 

“What are you making?” she asked, lifting  
her hand to rest against his back but realizing what she was about to do, she snatched it back hoping he hadn't noticed.

“Pancakes.”

“And I just conveniently had all the ingredients needed for pancakes, which I have never made in my life…” Lucy pinned him with a speculative stare.

Wyatt blushed and shaking his head, he walked over to her kitchen table and started digging in the plastic bags that cluttered the tabletop.

“How did I not see _that_?” Lucy laughed, awkwardly, pressing her palms to her cheeks.

“I don't know, _ma’am_.” Wyatt winked, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

“I can't believe you went to the store too! How long have you been up?” Lucy asked, gathering up the plastic bags and throwing them in the recycling bin.

Wyatt ignored her question -- _knowing him he probably woke up at the crack of dawn or some such nonsense_ \-- and shifted the bag in his hand, and placed it out of sight behind the flour. Lucy pretended like she didn't notice him acting suspicious but she wondered to herself what he was hiding.

Deciding to ignore it, Lucy sidled up to him and gave him her best pleading look, “Can I help?”

“You think you got it in you?” Wyatt asked with a laugh, at her mulish face.

“I’m a history professor, I think I can follow a few instructions,” Lucy sniped, offended at his disbelief.

“I believe you're stubborn enough to try.” Wyatt dodged out of the way as she attempted to whack him with the dish towel she snatched from the oven door.

“You gotta be quicker than that!” 

Lucy muttered under her breath, _stupid soldier with his stupid Delta Force skills_ , but she hung the towel back up and reached for the stack of measuring cups next to the batter bowl. 

“What’s first?”

\-----

 

A few minutes later and an inordinate amount of flour on the countertop, floor and Lucy's shirt, the batter was made, but the plastic bag was still sitting there in all its innocuousness and Lucy just couldn't figure out what was in it. 

Peeking over her shoulder, she checked to make sure that Wyatt was still buttering the electric griddle, and satisfied that he was properly distracted she reached for the bag.

Just as her fingertips touched the crinkly plastic it was yanked out from underneath her hand.

“Hey!” She protested, as Wyatt pulled it away and dangled it a good six inches out of her reach. 

“Why won't you let me see it? What is it?” Lucy whined, surprised to hear such a needy sound coming out of her mouth.

“It's a surprise!” Wyatt chuckled, when Lucy tried once again to jump up and grab the bag.

“Just tell me! It's not fair to tease me!” Lucy groaned, “You're so infuriating!”

Wyatt shook his head in amusement. 

She knew he enjoyed teasing her. She didn't begrudge him the laughter even if it was at her expense, anything that made Wyatt Logan happy made her happy too. 

So, even if she was annoyed at the frustrating man, she let him have his fun.

Wyatt reached up and put the bag in the highest cabinet above the microwave before reaching around her to mix the pancake batter, one last time.

Wyatt's cologne surrounded her, distracting her and she didn't even notice the fingertip of batter headed toward her face until the wet splatter of it on the tip of her nose. 

Lucy squealed, in surprise, before scooping up her own batter and smearing it on his cheek.

Wyatt wrapped his arms around her, so that her arms were trapped between his arms and her body, successfully keeping her from anymore retaliation.

He pressed his sticky, pancake batter cheek against hers, and Lucy squirmed in an attempt to get away. 

“Wyatt! You know, I’m really getting hungry!” She said, just as an unmistakable rumble sounded behind her. Lucy turned her head, a small smile curling up the corner of her mouth, “and I think you are too.”

“I guess I can't wiggle my way out of that one,” Wyatt joked, as he released her. 

Lucy stuck her tongue out at him. “You're so lame.”

Lucy clapped her hands in excitement when he finally pulled the bag out of the overhead cabinet.

Unraveling the plastic bag, Wyatt pulled out a bag of chocolate chips and opening them began to pour a generous amount into the bowl.

Lucy gazed adorably at the chocolate drops as they disappeared into the thick, pale batter and then staring up at him, in awe, she whispered, “I love you.”

Almost immediately, her eyes grew wide and she covered her face with both hands. Turning away from him, she raced down the hall and slammed her bedroom door behind her.

Wyatt stood there for a moment, in shock, before he followed her down the hall.

“Lucy? Lucy, hey! It's okay.” Wyatt called through the door, pressing his ear against the door to see if he could hear her.

Hearing nothing, except for the sound of the A.C. unit running, he tried the doorknob and finding it unlocked, he slowly pushed the door open. 

“Lucy?” He whispered, even though he could clearly see her, right in front of him on the bed.

Crossing the room he sat next to her on the bed. He picked her hand up from where it rested on her lap and laced his fingers through hers. “Lucy,” he said as he bent his head to try and catch her eye. “It's okay, Lucy. There's no need to be embarrassed or anything. You know? I hear that at least three times a day, and usually it's from Rufus.”

He expected to get a laugh, or at least a smile but her shoulders started shaking and Wyatt realized she was crying. 

“Hey, _hey_ , Lucy, no.” He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, and pulled her into him. He stroked the back of her head as she continued to cry. 

“What is it?” He asked, once she calmed down and only sniffed once every few minutes. 

Lucy shook her head, unable or unwilling to lift her head from his shoulder and continued to sniff and wipe at her tears with her cardigan sleeve. 

“Come on, you can tell me.” Wyatt tried cajoling her, rubbing his hand up and down her arm.

Lucy whispered something but she said it so quietly that Wyatt didn't hear her.

“What was that?” Wyatt tipped his head to rest against hers.

“I said,” Lucy’s voice sounded gummy, her tears clogging up her normal voice, “I _meant_ it. That's why I left the room. Cause I meant it and I was afraid that you didn't feel the same way, not anymore.” 

Wyatt sat there, in silence, for a few moments and Lucy wondered if this was the moment that he told her she was silly for believing he loved her too, or used to.

“Lucy, why do you think I came over here to make you breakfast?” He asked, softly.

“Because you don't have anything better to do…” Lucy smiled at him, or attempted to, her cheeks wobbling in an effort to be brave.

“Lucy, I might have started this whole thing off -- time traveling -- because it was dangerous and I didn't care about anything anymore, but like I told you back in 1941… I don't feel that way anymore. That's why I protect you and make you chocolate chip pancakes when you're exhausted, because I love you too.” 

Lucy didn't dare to hope that he actually meant what he said but when she lifted her head to look up into his eyes, she _knew_ he meant it. Love and affection shown out through his eyes and she suddenly knew what her face looked like when she looked at him. 

In that moment, she didn't care about chocolate chip pancakes or fancy coffee blends, she only wanted to see that look on his face for the rest of her life.

“Really?” She finally asked, even though she had already decided that he meant it.

“Really.” He grinned for about a second before she threw her arms around him and his smile was smothered by her lips.

_Alright, so chocolate chip pancakes are pretty delicious but you haven't tasted Wyatt Logan’s lips._


End file.
